Blurred Lines
by Isabella.Uley
Summary: Hermione and Harry had fallen in love without even realizing it, but with knowing how many people cared about them, decided to keep it a secret. But trouble always comes from secrets. And what's worse, they can be dangerous. HP/HG
1. Chapter 1: The Party

**DISCLAIMER:**I do not own these characters. They are all owned by J. K. Rowling, the only creative control I have is the plot.

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**Blurred Lines**

Chapter One: The Party

**Harry's POV**

Hermione and I had been together for over a year now, and we had been keeping it a complete secret: absolutely no one knew, and it was for the best. If Ron found out he would go ballistic, and if Ginny found out she would probably lock herself in a dark room and cry herself into a coma, after having crushing on me for so long. It wasn't that we wanted to lie to our friends, it wasn't like we _enjoyed_ it by any means, but, Ron and Ginny weren't the only ones who would be hurt from it…

Neville had confided in me back in third year that he fancied Hermione, and to this day I still caught him at attempt flirting with her. And Luna had confided in Hermione in fifth year that she fancied me: for my bravery and courage and authority, as Hermione had relayed to me. And for her kindness, patience, ability to understand and at always being a great friend, as Neville had told me. Oh, and not to mention how she was the most beautiful women he'd ever seen, and it had only become more so over the years. And Merlin, we he right.

Oh, and not to mention Cormac McLaggen. He had been drooling over Hermione all year, and it was really starting to get on my nerves…

I had discovered my own feelings for her in the middle of our fourth year, during the Triwizard Tournaments, but kept it quiet, thinking it was just a crush and would fade away… Instead, it only grew stronger. By the beginning of last year, our fifth year, I had broken down when we were alone one night in the library, studying, telling her that I was in love with her. I had expected her to tell me she was flattered, but only had feelings towards me as a sister would her brother… Instead, she had turned crimson, and admitted that she loved me too, and had only been pretending to be interested in Ron because she never thought I could possibly like her as anymore than a friend or adopted sister. I said, "You don't know how wrong you are," and I kissed her, and we had been together ever since, agreeing that very night to keep our romance to only ourselves, for the sake of our friends. And, we _were_ such good friends that it wasn't that difficult to pretend to be anything but around other people, except, of course, in those times where she would say something so brilliant or so adorable, or do something so _her_ that I would have to fight off the urge to pull her into my arms and kiss her; tell her how much I love her. Now, in our sixth year, I loved her more and more every day - ever so much more than I ever thought possible when I first fell for her.

Tonight, I knew, was going to be one of those nights. It was the Christmas Party for all of those of us in the Slug Club; each of us was allowed to bring a date, but, Hermione and I already being together, decided to just go together: as friends… sigh.

"Ron?" I asked as I stepped into the elaborately decorated classroom of Slughorn's. "What are you doing here, I didn't know you were invited," I smiled as I walked up to him, to see him in a crisp, clean white suite and gloves.

He shook his head. "No, I thought Hermione would, but…" he trailed. "Anyways, Neville and I are waiters. Slughorn wasn't going to let me in first, but I begged Neville to put in a good word for me, so, here I am," he smiled triumphantly. "Want a drink? It's _actually_ Champaign, can you believe it?"

"When it's Slughorn there is little I _won't _believe," I shrugged as I took a stem glass, full of tan colored liquid. "Anyways, seen anyone you recognize yet?" I asked him, taking a sip. "I mean apart from stranger-faces. Any of our friends, I mean."

He shook his head. "Apart from yourself and Neville, no," he told me. "I was hoping to see Hermione, but I guess she hasn't shown up yet. Besides, it is still early, party only just started after all. Anyways," he added, going to turn in the other direction. "Best be off to walk the room, don't want to be kicked out for being lazy, seeing as it is a favor I am in here to begin with," and he was off, offering drinks to people as he walked by.

I made a half circle, bringing the Champaign to my lips again and looking around the room. Her voice came from behind me, chipper and feminine. "Thank you, I didn't really want anything that made me stand out too much, so I went with pink. I know, Yule Ball reminiscent," she was talking to Neville, who held a tray of Champaign and a wide smile on his face; his suit a twin to Ron's. "But anyways, it was good to see you, Neville. I'm off to find Harry."

"Oh? You two come together?" he asked her with a bit too much interest.

"As friends, yes," she nodded. "But really Neville, I don't want to keep you from your duties, and Harry is probably searching for me, so I'll see you late–"

I set my Champaign on the table beside them, cupping my hand around her shoulder. She turned to me with a bright smile on her face; her eyes glowing. "Harry," she smiled, stepping into me and wrapping her arms around me. "I was just going to come looking for you," she told me as we parted.

"Yeah I heard," I told her, subtly taking her hand in mine and hiding it between our hips. "Hey, Neville," I smiled at him, who smiled back, nodding.

"Well," he said. "I was about to do my rounds. I will see you too later, enjoy the party," and he was off, a defeated look on his face.

She turned to me, running her fingers through my hair above my left ear. "Harry you really shouldn't do that."

"Do what?" I asked her curiously. "All I did was walk up and say 'hi Neville'," it was so hard not to kiss her; the way she looked tonight outshone all other times I had ever seen her dressed up. She was absolutely radiant.

"I know…" she sighed. "It's just, whenever you show up you make it all too clear he'll never be with me. Not with words," she quickly corrected herself, "just the way you present yourself, the way you look at him, how you always place your hand on me."

"Well," I nodded in agreement. "_You're my girlfriend, Hermione_," I said softly. "_And I know you'll never do anything, but I can't help but get jealous whenever I see another guy flirting with you. I know we need to keep it quite, but, sometimes I just wish that… I just wish that…"_

"We didn't have to," she finished for me. "I know, Harry," she sighed, taking my hand back into hers, but keeping a safe distance at the same time. "And one day we won't have to keep it a secret, but until then…"

"Keep what a secret?" asked Ron as he stepped up to us. "Champaign?" he offered.

Hermione smiled as we dropped our hands, each taking a glass. "Oh, you know, the usual," she mused while taking a sip and looking over at him. The look on Ron's face as she took her drink, I couldn't quite place it, but there was just something _off_ about it. "Anyways," she went on, oblivious to Ron's facial changes as she looked towards me. "I am going to let you two talk; I'm going to see if I can find Ginny anywhere. See you boys later," there was something definitely different as Ron watched her walk away, and as I looked after her, there was a subtle difference in her stride. I furrowed my brows, looking back at Ron.

"Well, it was good to see you," he told me. "But I've duties to attend to. We will talk later, I will be around," he was off before I could say a word.

Something was not right. The way Ron had been acting, talking, smiling since Hermione had taken that drink; the way she walked, they way her eyebrows drew in together as she walked away. How Ron had left just has she had, after not saying so much as a "Hi" to either of us. I set my glass down, as was beginning to make my way towards Hermione, to talk to her and see if something _was_ going on, but was stopped by a firm hand on the shoulder. I turned around, looking up at the face of none other than Snape.

"Mister Potter," he said slowly, quickly pulling his hand away and holding it across his stomach. "I have a message for you from the Headmaster," he told me, he was about to go on, but I cut him off.

"I am sorry, Professor, I have got to see about Hermione, I am sure whatever it is can wait, If you'll excuse me–" he stopped me by placing his hand along my shoulder, and as I looked in the direction of Hermione I could just make out a white shape with a tuff of red hair disappearing behind a wall that was shrouded by curtains and hanging plants. I looked around, but I couldn't see Hermione anywhere.

"That'll be ten points from Gryffindor, and I will double that and add a detention if you cut me off again, Mister Potter," he told me. I balled my fists at my sides and let out a long sigh through my nose.

"Sir," I obeyed.

"As I was saying," he went on slowly. "Professor Dumbledore asked me to inform you that he has left, and is unsure of when he will be returning to the school," he told me. "That is all. I know nothing else. Enjoy the party," and he was off, walking away slowly with his hands still folded over his stomach. Annoyed, I downed the rest of my Champaign, and finished off another that had been abandoned on the table.

I ran my hand over my hair, and looked over to see Ginny, looking plain in a metallic green dress, a simple thing. Not ugly, but certainly not an eye-catcher. "Ginny," I said as I strode over to her, determined. "Have you seen Hermione?" I asked her quickly. "She said she was going to go talk to you… I just wanted to make sure she was okay, she seemed a little…"

"Weird?" she finished for me. "Yeah, I noticed that, but, no," she added, shaking her head. "I saw her, but then she just took off. I think she might have left or something, too much Champaign, maybe. I did see Ron, though. He said that he'd keep an eye on her. Such a sweet guy, I really think they would be–" she cut herself off, looking behind me. "Oh, there he is now."

I nodded my thanks, and ran off in his direction. But wasn't about to get a word out as I watched him readjusting his shirt around his pants; his hair completely disheveled. "Harry, Harry," he smiled, taking my arm into his hand and pulling me towards him while he took us across the room to a secluded section. "I did it!" he proclaimed softly. "I finally did it! Me, Ron Weasley, I finally did it!" he we practically bouncing.

"Ron, wait," my gut twisted into knots, threatening to reject all the Champaign I had drank. "Ron, did what, exactly? And, where's Hermione?"

His smiled widened. "I go the stuff from Malfoy, if you can believe it. Well," he mused. "Actually that isn't that hard to believe…" he trailed.

"Ron!" I brought him back. "What are you talking about!?" my voice was nearing hysterics: I did _not _like where this was going.

"She won't remember a thing," he drew a line with his hand. "Not a _thing._ I slipped it into her drink when she was looking away. And then I did it!"

My teeth were clenched. "Did - what."

"She has been stringing me along for years, and a man has needs, Harry… I slipped this pill into her drink. I found her nearly unconscious; mumbling to herself and rolling on the floor. No one was around… I did it," he said again, smiling. "I finally shagged her! And hey, did you know that she was a virgin? Guess it means we took it from each other, doesn't it?"

"You…" I couldn't breathe, I couldn't see; my body was shaking, red filled my vision as my fists clenched at my sides. "You _raped_ Hermione?"

"Wow there, calm down," he told me. "Like I said; can't be rape if she won't remember it. Damn Harry, I thought you'd be happy for me," the look on his face, it was truly confused.

"You," I told him, baking away and forcing my hand to stay at my side; else I would pull out my wand and kill him. Violently. "Ronald Weasley; you are _dead_ to me. And If I _ever_ see you near my girlfriend again, I will _kill_ you."

I left him standing there, staring blankly and silently, as I set off to find Hermione. And those words were just the beginning – Welcome to Hell Ronald Weasley, I am Harry Potter, and I will be your tour director.

**To be continued…**


	2. Chapter 2: Memories Unable to Remember

****DISCLAIMER: ****I do not own these characters. They are all owned by J. K. Rowling, the only creative control I have is the plot.

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**Blurred Lines**

Chapter Two: Memories Unable to Remember

**Hermione's POV**

The party had ended hours ago, in fact, I didn't remember leaving the party at all. I hardly remembered coming into Gryffindor Common Room at all. All I_ did_ knowwas that somehow my clothes had been changed; I was now in my deep red fleece pajama bottoms and fuzzy black and white stripped socks, and one of Harry's white T-shirts. My makeup had been washed off, and I lay cuddled in Harry's lap with his arms around me; a black, blue, purple and brown blanket that my mother had made for me spread around us. My body hurt, my head was pounding and my vision fuzzy. The area between my legs felt like it had been beaten and ripped open, and I had no idea why. I had no idea what time it was, and I hadn't seen anyone since my last memory of being at the party; walking away from Harry and Neville and feeling as if I might pass out. So I assumed it must be well past everyone's bedtime, early in the morning, I guessed.

I pulled Harry's arm tighter around me, snuggling closer into him, and he responded by pulling me deeper into his lap. "Harry," I said softly with the blanket covering my lips, as I looked over at the crackling fire. "Why can't I remember anything?"

He let out a long sigh, kissing the top of my head. "Hermione," he whispered. "You know I love you… more than anything in the entire world, don't you?" I nodded, craning my neck to look up at him. "Then you know," he ran his hand over my cheek. "That I will never hide anything from you. But you need to trust me, that I will tell you when the time is right," he told me, hugging me tighter.

"Everything hurts, Harry," I told him, biting back a sob. "My head feels like it is splitting, I can't see more than five inches in front of my face without everything going fuzzy… my skin feels rough, like sandpaper or thick hair. And I can't… I can't remember anything, Harry," I cried softly. "Harry, I know you're trying to protect me, but I… Harry, I feel like I…." I pulled myself away from him, shoving the blanket to the other side of the couch. I crawled to my knees and turned around to face him. "I _know_ there is something I am not remembering, Harry," I told him. His eyes were moist, a look of complete broken heartedness. "Harry, we were both born muggles, and I know you have heard stories of things like this happening, just like I have… After I had that drink… Harry," I dropped down, hanging my head in the air to suppress a sob, taking his hand into mine. "Harry," I said again, bringing my eyes up to meet with his. "Harry, please tell me… _was I raped_?"

He closed his eyes, bringing his balled fist to his mouth and biting his folded index finger between his teeth. "I knew something was wrong," he began slowly. "After you drank that Champaign, and the way he kept looking at you… You were fine before that, and he kept _looking_ at you," he opened his eyes, looking at me with pools under his eyes.

"I tried to follow you, the way you were acting, the way you were walking, it was so _fast_," he told me. "I tried to go after you, but Snape… He kept blocking my way, telling me he had something to tell me from Dumbledore… By the time Snape finally left, I found him. He was," he cleared his throat, as if he were swallowing down a large lump. "I couldn't find you anywhere, I couldn't see you anywhere… He was fixing his pants, and his hair was completely disheveled. He kept congratulating himself, but he would never say what he did, just that, '_I did it! I finally did it!_'

"I kept asking him, but I knew… I already knew. I felt sick, and I could feel my heart breaking… I knew that… He told me he put a pill in your drink when you weren't looking, and, and…" he broke off again, and I felt as the tears continued to silently slide down my cheeks; our fingers embraced tightly together. I swallowed, feeling like I was going to throw up. "And I knew, Hermione… I knew before he said it that he raped you," I inhaled a huge, silent breath, collapsing against him. He wrapped his arms around me, pulling me against him. I clung onto his shirt, pulling my knees up to my chest, and biting back, fighting off the hysterics.

"I went looking for you, telling him if I ever saw him near you again I would kill him. And I didn't care anymore, I don't care anymore, I told him you are my girlfriend.

"I found you in a secluded corner of the room, hidden off in the back, behind plants and decorations and things. You were on the floor, trembling. You were completely disoriented; you had no idea where you were. I took you into my arms, and you just clung to me like I was your lifeline and kept saying my name.

"I brought you straight to Gryffindor Tower, I couldn't go into the girls dormitories, so I just told the girls that were in there that you had too much to drink, and told them to clean you up for me and told them which clothes to put you in, giving them my shirt for you. Everyone knows about us now, it is impossible for them not to.

"I waited for you outside the girls dormitories', and carried you to the couch, waiting for you to wake up," he finished, hugging me tightly with tears in his voice. "Hermione, my daring, my _love_," he breathed. "I am so, so sorry. I am supposed to protect you, and I couldn't. Hermione, Hermione I am so sorry."

I clung to him just as tightly, kicking my legs to climb into his lap. "Harry," I cried, looking into his tear-filled eyes. "Harry, who?" I asked him weakly. "Who was it, Harry? Who _raped_ me?" my voice broke on the word.

"Hermione…" he said slowly, calming himself down, I knew it was for me, so he could be there for me. But I had to know.

"Harry, please just tell me," I begged, forcing down the sobs. "Was it Cormac?" I asked, looking up at him. He shook his head, leaning his forehead against mine. "Was it someone from Slytherin?" I asked, growing more and more frantic by the minute. He shook his head again, looking at me with big, sad green eyes. "Harry," I breathed softly. "_I love you_… Please, _please_… Please just tell me who it was, _please_."

He took in a deep breath, gently pulling his forehead from mine. Tears still rolled down my cheeks, but I was calmer now, feeding off of his comfort and love, drinking the strength from his arms around me. "Ron," he said flatly.

All of the calm shattered, I didn't want to believe him, but I had no other choice than to: this was Harry, Harry… _My Harry_. My one love and the man who I trusted more than anyone in the world. I balled his shirt into my fists, burying my face into his chest and sobbing, crying, "_no, no, no, no, no, no!" _No! I shook uncontrollably as sobs filled my body, listening in disgust and hate and disbelief as he told me what Ron had told him; telling him how I had strung him around for years… How he became disappointed when Harry wasn't happy for him; wasn't proud of him. How he just stood there mutely after Harry had told him I was his girlfriend, how it took every ounce of strength he had not to kill him there on the spot.

"Hermione," he cooed softly, holding me securely in his arms, rocking me back and forth against his body and I wept and wept. "I promise to you now: no one will ever, ever touch you again. No one will ever hurt you again. I love you," he told me. "I will die before anyone hurts you again."

I pulled my face from his chest, wiping at my cheeks as I tried regulating my breathing. "I love you," I coughed; looking down at his stomach, then back up at his eyes. "Harry," I cried. "_Harry_," my voice broke, and I placed my hands over his chest, tugging at his shirt affectionately. "It was supposed to be _you_," I told him, my shoulders shaking. "It was supposed to be _you_… _You_ were the one who I was supposed to give myself to completely, Harry… But I _can't_ anymore," I cried. "I _can't,_ I _can't_ Harry… It's been taken from me. I will _never_ have it back again.

"I hate him, Harry," I told him, laying myself against him and nuzzling my head into the crook of his neck. "Harry, I never want to see him again. I hate him so much. I can't believe he ever had the gull to call himself my friend." Silent tears were streaming down my cheeks.

He pulled me tightly against him, kissing my neck softly and holding me; running his fingers through my hair. "That's because he never was, my darling," he told me softly, running his hands over my back. "It has always just been the two of us; he has always just hung around; a third wheel. Not good at anything except slowing us down or getting in the way; using you to do all of his class work. We should have left him behind years ago," he hugged me tighter, bringing his lips down to the top of my head. "There are no words, no actions that will ever be able to encompass how sorry I am, Hermione," he cooed. "If I had been a better boyfriend, this never would have happened. Hermione, my love," he pulled my head away from his shoulder, forcing my eyes to meet his. "I will spend the rest of my life making this up to you," he ran his hand over the side of my face, leaning in and kissing me deeply. "We will get through this," he promised me kissing me again. "He _will_ pay for what he did, Hermione. He will not get away with it. From now on… From now on there never was a Ron Weasley. Not to you. Not to me. He is dead."

I nodded, leaning in and kissing him again; running my fingers through his hair. I pressed my forehead against his, closing my eyes and feeling as he watched me, his hands running lovingly along my back. "Harry," I asked suddenly. "What if…" I swallowed. "What if he tries again? What if he finds me alone, and–," tremors filled my body, and he tightened his hold round me.

"He wont," he told me finally. "Hermione, he will not be able to. I wont allow it," he said, looking down at me seriously. "Hermione, I promise you with my life, he will not touch you again," I nodded, unsure, as I leaned my lips into his, kissing him deeply, drinking his love and comfort. His assurance.

"Sleep now, my love," he told me softly as I settled into his arms, leaning my head against his shoulder. He hugged me securely, holding me tightly. "And everything will get taken care of in the morning. Just close your eyes, feel my arms around you, and sleep."

"I love you," I whispered softly.

"I love you, Hermione," he said back, resting his head against mine. "More than anything in the world."

With his voice softly signing me to sleep I could hear in his tone that he was growing tired; exhausted, instead of me. I was full of energy: of fire. Harry said that it would get taken care of in the morning – and what? Allow Ron to have a peaceful night sleep, after _raping_ me? No, no, I don't think so.

Making sure Harry was asleep, I twisted in his arms a bit, moaning and mumbling his name. Nothing. If he were awake, he would have kissed the top of my head, hugged me tighter and rolled his head back a bit, clicking his lips together.

I pulled myself away from him, sliding out from the blanket and repositioning it back around him. I soundlessly walked to the backside of the couch and leaned down, kissing his forehead. "I love you," I whispered softly, looking down at his handsome face for only a moment as to not let myself get distracted from my task.

I made my way up the stairs, turning instead in the direction of the boys' dormitories instead of the girls'. Quietly, I walked over to Ron's four-poster, where I found his silhouette snoring loudly, and in a very strange position. I thought about ways to wake him, but instead, decided on-

"Ow!" he moaned as his body flew off his bed and crashed onto the hard wooden floor as I pushed with all my might. He scratched his head, eyes still closed as he pushed himself onto his elbows. "What the bloody hell was that fo– Hermione," he gulped, looking over at me.

"Didn't expect to see me?" I asked with my fists balled at my hips, glaring down at him with such hate I thought if I focused hard enough I might actually be able to catch him on fire. Too bad I wasn't a dragon.

I rounded his bed, and he tore to his feet and was down the stairs in an instant.

I followed him.

**To be continued…**


	3. Chapter 3: Help

**DISCLAIMER: **I do not own these characters. They are all owned by J. K. Rowling, the only creative control I have is the plot.

* * *

**Blurred Lines**

Chapter Three: Help

**Harry's POV**

A forced pocket of air was pushed from my lungs; sent past my lips, filling my ears with a deep groan. I didn't feel Hermione's small form against me, which in itself would have woken me if the sudden slam of unfamiliar body weight pounding against me hadn't startled me to wakefulness. I blinked awake, still gasping for air, and looked around at my surroundings to find myself still in the common room – the fireplace still a crackle with hot flames by magic. It took me a minute, but I found my Hermione, standing at the base of the stairs, her eyes filled with rage as she looked on to the weight that still lay atop me. "Harry Potter," she hadn't said my name like that since before we became a couple, and it shocked me into the reality of what she was looking at.

I let out a disgusted moan as I flipped Ron Weasley off of me, sending him on to the floor in front of the couch. "Bloody hell!" he complained, quickly scrambling up to his feet. "Would the two of you just _stop _doing that?" he asked. "Still half asleep, you know!"

"Oh!" Hermione laughed sarcastically. "Harry!" she demanded again, taking her eyes from the monster in front of the couch and looking over at me. "My wand! Where is my wand Harry?" she asked as she jogged over to me, and began feeling me up for it.

"Hermione," I grabbed her arms, preventing her from searching me any further. "Hermione, love, love, calm down," I told her, taking both her hands into one of mine and placing her cheek in my palm. "I love you. If I give you your wand back two of you will end up in Azkaban before the sun is up, and I really don't want you arrested… Much as I _do_ want him killed," I indicated towards Ron. She took a moment and contemplated, looking over at the filth by the couch. "Hermione," I said more calmly, once again taking her face between my hands and forcing her eyes to meet mine. "He isn't worth it, darling," I told her. "He isn't worth it," she nodded, crossing her arms over her chest. "Just stay here," I told her sweetly, before leaning forward to kiss her. She kissed me back, deeply, taking my head into her hands and reaching up on her toes. "I love you, but if you move – I _do _have your wand and I _will_ hex you, my sweet.

"You," I said, rounding the corner to Ron. "You're a bloody bastard who deserves to die, you know that?" I told him, sending my fist flying through the air and meeting the side of his cheek before he even had a chance to realize it was coming. "You dare even _think _you can lay a hand on _my _girlfriend?" I asked him, sending another punch at his other cheek before he even had time to recover from the last. With both hands clasped over his cheeks, I made the next really count, taking his shoulders into my hands and bringing them down while lifting my knee with its full force between his legs. He let out a holler of pain, and dropped his hands to clasp his genitals. I took my next chance, grabbing with both hands the back of his head and bending his face down to meet with my knee. When he dropped to the floor he had blood pooling from his nose, and bright purple bruises forming on each cheek. I turned around to look at my Hermione. She had her arms crossed over her chest, and looked down at the redhead on the floor with a combination of something I had never seen her have before: hate and fear. I spun around, lifting my foot behind me as far as it would go, and then sending it home, slamming into his stomach. I did this three more times before dropping down to sit on him; slamming my fist into his skull again and again and again.

"You BASTARD!" I screamed before sending another punch into his left cheek. "I hope you die, Ron Weasley!" I told him. "I hope you…" I was livid; all I could see was red. All I could see was Hermione as I found her whimpering and confused on the floor at Slughorn's party; her dress ripped, blood staining the area between her legs, staining through onto her dress. The sound of her terrified voice as she whimpered my name; clinging onto me desperately as I carried her back to Gryffindor Tower. The look of pride on Ron's face as he explained to me what he had done to my girlfriend; to the one and absolute love of my life.

I was suddenly ripped away from him, and looked down to find my hands and shirt and part of my slacks were splattered with his blood. Hermione was rushing over to me, pulling me into her arms and she walked me over to a loveseat. "Harry," she was saying desperately. "Harry! Harry, love, hear me!" I pulled my eyes away from Ron, and as my eyes met with her beautiful almond ones, I smiled. She smiled back, and I ran my bloodied hand over her hair. "It's okay now, Harry," she was saying. "It's okay… Cormac was there," she was explaining as a buzz of voices and noises passed by us. "Apparently he saw the whole thing – He's going away now, Harry. We'll both be fine," she pulled my forehead against hers. "We'll be fine."

"Wait, Cormac..? What?"

"McLaggen," she told me, looking down and pulling at a loose thread in the material of the chair. "He found me, too. He saw Ron slip the pill in my drink… he found me before you did, Harry… He saw what Ron did, he…watched the whole thing…" she looked up at me, tears smearing down her cheeks. "He wanted to do it to, but he saw you and just… took off…" I tore myself from the seat, ready to take on my second fellow Gryffindor of the night. Hermione grabbed my arm, tugging me towards her.

"Harry, _no!_" she hissed. "What he said about wanting to do it too slipped, he is getting taken away with Ron! You're my boyfriend, everybody knows that know, so you defending me against Ron was you protecting me, but if you go after McLaggen who didn't actually do anything _you'll _get in trouble Harry, and I can't have you taken from me!"

Reality was setting in; what Ron did, knowing McLaggen wanted to, that he watched the whole thing happen… I was spending so much time focusing on the monsters of this situation, I had entirely forgotten about the victim, my darling Hermione. I looked over at her, and she was shaking, as she, too, looked around the room; broken furniture, Ron bloodied and bruised and barley conscious, McLaggen with his back against the wall looking down at Ron, then over at me and Hermione. Teachers were everywhere, questioning, it seemed, everyone _except _Hermione and me.

"Harry," there were tears in her voice. I looked over at her, and she had her hands extended towards me: she needed me, and I had been too bloody focused on tearing Ron apart, I had been ignoring her, when she was the one who had been drugged and raped. "Please," her voice was soft and weak, pleading. I pulled her into my arms, hugging her tightly. "Harry please," she said again as I closed my eyes, breathing in her scent. "They're both being taken away now; can we please just try and pretend this never happened Harry? Please?" I looked down at her, cupping her face between my hands and looking down at her with guilt. I kissed her forehead, and then her lips.

"I am so sorry Hermione," I told her softly. "Please… I was so mad; all I could think about was how badly I wanted to destroy Ron for what he did… Hermione, darling, please… God, I am so sorry. Hermione I am so sorry," she nodded her head, pulling at the fabric at my shoulders.

"Harry, I just never thought," she was still nodding, her eyes filling with tears. "Harry, I just, _Harry_…" she started sobbing, dropping to her knees and taking me down with her. She was hyperventilating, trembling and sobbing so loudly that all pairs of eyes in the room was on us, but I didn't give a damn. I pulled her into my lap, hugging her tightly and rocking her back and forth. "Harry!" she cried, ripping at my clothes and screaming. "Why god, Harry, oh, why did this happen to me?" she sobbed, my heart breaking with each new tear that left her eyes.

I looked up and saw Neville standing beside us, a depressed look on his face as he looked down at Hermione. I knew any other male voice beside my own would send her over the edge, but I was too slow to stop it: he bent down beside us, placing his hand onto her shoulder. "Hermione, if there is anything-"

"NO!" she screamed, ripping herself from my arms and crawling backwards into the far corner of the room. "NO! NO!" she was covering her face with her hands, crossing her legs over each other so tightly I was afraid one might snap. "Stay away from me!" she screamed. "Don't touch me!" It was all too much, Ron raping her, and then finding out someone else was planning to rape her… she was loosing it. "Stay away from me," she demanded again, looking at Neville, but not really _seeing _anything.

I stood hesitantly, saying her name softly, hesitantly. "Hermione?" I said softly. She whimpered, pulling her legs tightly against her chest. "Hermione, love, it's me, Harry… You're Harry. The man you love, who will never do a thing in the world to hurt you…"

"Harry?" she asked softly. "Harry… Harry," recognition washed over her face, and she scrambled into my arms. "Oh, Harry… Harry…" she was crying again, not quite sobbing, but not exactly calm, either. "Harry," she was running her hands over the back of my head, and I was hugging her as tightly as I could without hurting her. "Harry, I think I need help, Harry, please… Harry, will you help me?" he voice broke, and she clung to me like I was the last living person in the world.

"Always," I promised her. "Always Hermione." I kissed the top of her head softly, lifting her into my arms and carrying her from Gryffindor commons.

* * *

After changing her into her hospital robes, I helped her onto the cot. Under normal circumstances Madam Pomfrey would help one of the female students change if she herself weren't capable, but the second Madam Pomfrey went to touch Hermione she began to scream again, and even tried biting the poor old woman once. She nodded over at me, sadly, and I helped Hermione to change.

I pulled the warm blanket up to Hermione's chin, and gave her a kiss on her forehead. "And I going to be okay, Harry?" she asked me, squeezing my hand. "I keep getting flashes of memory, of… of Ron… and I have moments when I don't know what is real and what isn't. Harry, am I going crazy?"

"No, no, of course not Hermione," I promised her, bringing her hand up to my lips and kissing her gently. "You just went through something horrible, something no one should ever go though… it is going to take time for you to heal, darling, but I am going to be with you every second of the way," she smiled at that, looking over at me.

"I love you, Harry," she told me.

"And I love you, Hermione," I told her. "So very, very much." I looked up to see Madam Pomfrey making her way over to us. "Now Hermione, you're going to have to let Madam Pomfrey take some blood," she began sweating, looking very nervous. "Now darling, what did I just promise you?"

"That you'll stay with me," she whimpered. "Every second."

"Yes, just look into my eyes, and keep talking."

"What do I say?" she asked.

"Anything, darling, tell me anything."

"When I first met you on the train," she began, letting out a hiss as Madam Pomfrey sticked her. "I thought you were really cute," she told me. "You were my first crush, and now I'm pretty sure I am going to spend the rest of my life with you. How rare is that?"

I smiled, running my hand through her hair. "When I first saw you on the train, I thought you were the most beautiful girl I'd ever seen," I said with a smile. "And now, I _am _going to spend the rest of my life with you." She let out another hiss as Madam Pomfrey stuck her with something else, and almost as soon as she pulled the needle out, Hermione eyes started to droop.

Hermione smiled happily. "I love you Harry."

"I love you, Hermione," I kissed her forehead, rubbing the top of her head with my thumb. She was asleep before I pulled my lips away, and when I did, Madam Pomfrey had a solemn look on her face, and was gesturing for me to go over to her. I looked down at Hermione one last time, and then walked over to the nurse.

"I am so sorry," she said before I even had a chance to reach her all the way. "You see, in the wizarding world, our test results happen much sooner than in the muggle world, and, and…"

"What, Madam Pomfrey?"

"It's your girlfriend," she told me sadly. "Miss Granger… She's pregnant."

**To be continued…**


	4. Chapter 4: Ours

**DISCLAIMER: **I do not own these characters. They are all owned by J.K. Rowling, the only creative control I have is the plot.

**Author's Note: **I can not begin to express any explanation worthy of why it has been almost TWO YEARS since I have even touched this story. Other than this: I am sorry. I moved from one house to another, and then to another house, and then to another house in a town far, far from where I originally started out in. This story has been calling to me for a little while now, begging to go on and continue. Well, I can only hope that you will forgive me, trust that it will be updated regularly (as it should have done to begin with) and enjoy how it goes on. Please, I am so sorry, terribly, terribly sorry. Please review and tell me what you think, and I do promise to update regularly.

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**Blurred Lines**

Chapter Four: Ours

**Harry's POV**

I stood with my back leaning against the wall facing the girls' sixth year dormitory; my arms folded across my chest and my legs crossed at the ankles. The sun had just begun to make its climb into the sky on this, the second Saturday of the month, and eighth Saturday since Hermione had been attacked. I had made it a habit to wake before the sun on days she didn't spend with me in my bed. I begged her to, every night, I begged and pleaded with her to stay with me, to let me hold her and protect her; to keep her safe. _He isn't here_, she would tell me, _neither one of them are here, Harry, I will be fine. _But I could see the fear in her eyes when she spoke: lips say no and eyes say yes. But I knew that she was doing it for herself, to make herself become less weak and helpless, she was doing it to prove to herself that she could. But every night that she did stay with me, I held her and could feel her body shaking as she cried, hoping I didn't notice. I did, but for her sake I just held her, kissed her, sang to her and ran my fingers through her hair to soothe her. On nights she didn't stay with me I barley slept a wink, worrying over her.

Some girls smiled at me as they passed me on their way to the great hall for breakfast, others pretended not to see me; the same as it went every morning I waited when she didn't stay with me. I nodded to the ones who smiled, said "Good morning," to the ones who pretended to not see me. When the last of the girls' exited the dormitory, leaving only Hermione, I kicked away from the wall and set my hand on the stone door frame to the dormitory. I began to say her name, but was silenced as another one spoke…

"How long d'you think you'll be able to keep up this lie?" Ginny? What the hell was Ginny doing in with the sixth years'? "Gonna just keep quite then? Not going to even try and defend yourself? Really Hermione, and I thought we were so close, then you go and ruin my brothers life!"

"_I _ruined _his_ life?" Hermione said weakly as Ginny snorted. "Ginny, what is wrong with you? What lie? I was-"

"Oh come off it all ready!" Ginny spat at her. "The boys may think they know everything, but really it's just us who knows, isn't it? No… You couldn't be happy with just Harry, could you? You had to go on and tease _my brother_ for all those years! String poor Neville along, tempt Cormac – honestly, how nobody sees what a _slut_ you are just baffles me!"

"Ginny, I-" there were tears in her voice. I was shaking, the only thing holding me back from announcing my presence was the fact that there was no way of getting into the room to throttle Ginny… "Please, Ginny, why are you doing this?" now she really was crying. "Why are you saying these things; why are you being so mean? You know perfectly well what happened, just as everybody else does. I love Harry, I would nev-"

"Yeah, _save_ it. Gah, yes, you _looove _Harry so much, d'you? Then why did you let my brother ride you like the little whore that you are?" Ginny barked at her. "If it weren't for the fact that the two of you had kept your relationship such a bloody secret, maybe this never would have happened!"

"Ginny, please, I know you have feelings for Harry, but it's-"

"_I LOVE HARRY!"_ she spat at her. "You could have had Neville! You could have had Cormac! You could have had Ron! Damnit Hermione; you could have had any bloody man in the entire school that you wanted! Dean, Seamus… Even Cedric Diggory before he died was always checking you out – even the teachers! Did you never notice the way Professor Lupin would look at you when you'd be focused on something else? The way Krum fell in love with you the first time he even saw you? Damn Hermione, what is it about you that makes you so damn desirable to not only the men, not only the _teachers_ but even the girls! Anyone! Anyone, Hermione Granger, you could have had anyone you bloody well wanted, but you had to go and take the ONLY person I have _ever_ cared for!

"You know what, NO! I am not going to sit around while you _cry _and _mope _and _complain_ about what happened to you – about something that happened to you that could have been prevented had you not been asking so badly for it! You know what? I am glad it happened! I am glad Ron did what he did, you deserved it, you cow! And you know what else?" Ginny's heels clicked on the stone floor as Hermione sniffled her nose, holding back a sob. "I hope that it happens again, and again, and again, yeah, I do. I _really_ do. I hope Cormac takes you, and Neville, and Seamus and Dean and every other guy you have strung along whilst you've already got Harry. _Harry_," she mused, "could do _so much _better." Hermione hyperventilated, sobbing desperately into her pillow.

I stepped back from the doorway, allowing plenty of room for Ginny to exit the dormitory before seeing me.

Her eyes widened in shock as I grabbed her by the shoulders and slammed her up against the stone wall, uncaring as her head went backwards against it. "How dare you," I said through clenched teeth, pressing the tips of my fingers into her flesh. She called out in pain, told me to stop that I was hurting her. I took my left hand and covered her mouth to shut her up. "Shut. Up. You. _Miserable_. _Ugly_. Bitch," her eyes widened and I could feel her chin bobbing beneath my hand, watched as tears welled in her eyes and spilled down her cheeks. "How dare you," I said again, softly. "My darling was _drugged _and _raped_ by _your_ brother. And not just that, no, but hurt. You could see fingernail marks so deep they drew blood, running down the length of her back, her arms, her bottom and thighs. Her stomach and breasts, her sides. You could see swollen _black_ bruises on her shoulders and hips from where he held her down. Bite marks on her neck, and d'you want to know the worst part, Ginny, hm, do you? She was _unconscious_. He did those things to her," I could feel tears running down my own cheeks now, at the memory, but I hardly noticed, "when she wasn't even conscious to defend or protect herself. He raped her, bruised her, but her, bit her when she couldn't have even fought him off.

"He is a _monster_, Ginny, your brother whom you love so much, is a horrible, disgusting _thing_ who deserves worse than the kindness of death. And you. _You_.

"You are no better than him, Ginny. Not in this life, or the next hundred lives. You say all of those horrible, awful, low things to _my _Hermione! To _my _love and reason for living. You name off all of these people who want to be with her, and you ever wonder why, Ginny, hm? Did you ever even bother to wonder why all of those people like her so much? Because she is amazing. She is beautiful, and smart, and funny. She is kind and gentle and innocent and patient and helpful. She is selfless and wonderful. You wonder why nobody likes you, why nobody has even shown even the _slightest_ interest in you? Why you claiming to love me has absolutely _no _effect on me – you are nothing. You are a selfish, ugly, horrible, awful person who deserves just as much as your brother, who drugged and raped and hurt my Hermione, does.

"And if I ever, _ever _see you so much as look at her. If you ever speak to her again, or if I ever see you touch her even if you just brush up against her in the hall, I would watch my back. Stay away from Hermione. Stay away from me. And if you don't… you will be very, very sorry that you ever even met either one of us, and you will never again have to wonder how out of all of the hundreds of people You-Know-Who has killed, I survived. Because _I am a survivor_. You wouldn't be." I let her go, and she backed away from me, sliding along the wall and shaking, hugging herself, tears running down her cheeks. As she reached the top of the stairway she turned and ran down them, two at a time.

I watched her go, not really seeing her. When I turned to look back at the sixth year girls' dormitories, Hermione was standing there, one hand hanging at her side, the other clasped around the thick wood of the door she held open. She was looking up at me, her eyes red and swollen from crying, her cheeks still wet as tears continued to fall. "Harry," her voice was hoarse from sobbing, but I knew she had heard every word I had said to Ginny. "Harry, I-"

"Shhh," I said softly as I took the only step I was able to before the enchantment on the doorway would throw me back. I opened my arms for her, saying, "Come here, my darling." And she did.

* * *

I pulled the thick crimson and gold quilt up around Hermione's shoulders and leaned my head down to kiss her temple. The moon was full in the clear, mid-February sky, accompanied only by the millions and millions of stars that she loved so much, and without so much as a wisp of a cloud.

It was a very cold night, but we were both dressed warmly, cuddled together against the side of an old oak tree that was probably as old as the school itself, with a warm fire built and an enchantment which kept the heat from going any further than a few feet past where we sat, and no higher than a few inches above our heads. It was our own little bubble of warmth in an else wise world of frost and ice.

"I know you know me well enough," Hermione said softly, pulling her eyes from the fire to look up at me. Merlin, she was so beautiful I couldn't breathe, "to know that I didn't just bring you out here for the romantic setting and stars."

"Is that all, then?" I smiled as I leaned into her, taking her face into my hands and kissing her tenderly. She slid down so she was now laying against the black blanket and resting her head against the pillows I had brought out for her. "I was wondering." I whispered as I laid down with her neck against my upper arm as I held her close, kissing her again and hugging her protectively.

She smiled, almost ashamedly, and averted her eyes from mine. "Only, I have been doing a lot of thinking…" she slid her eyes between us, looking down towards her stomach. "And, oh, Harry, I know we are young… so young," she found my hand with both of hers, and laced our fingers together. "But I didn't ask for this, and, and I have decided that…" her eyes were glossing over. The baby. We hadn't talked about the baby since the first night, when we had found out. I took my free hand and slid it away from her neck, placing my hand on the side of her face.

"It's all right, love, whatever you-"

"No, Harry, that's just it… _I _didn't ask for this. But… But neither did the baby… and… and I can't just throw it out because of what happened." Now she did look up at me, and she was crying, but, by the sound of her voice I never would have been able to tell. She sounded so sure; her mind completely made up. "Harry," now I could tell, it had gone shaky, nervous. "Harry, _I love you_, and I don't just want to – I _know_ that I am going to spend the rest of my life with you, and… And…"

"Hermione, my darling, I told you the night we found out that I will support you one-hundred percent on your decision. You know you don't need to be scared. I am here, and I am never going anywhere," I soothed her, kissing her forehead. "Just tell me, and I will hold you, and promise to love you for ever."

"I have decided to keep the baby, Harry. And I… I want to raise the baby as you were their father. As, as if you were the one to have fathered them… Like it was always you…" she said softly, pulling herself closer towards me. "I want this baby to be _our_ baby, Harry. I want them to be _ours_."

I pulled her hand up between our hearts, and grabbed her wrist, pulling off her glove, and then my own. I laced our fingers back together, kissing away her tears. I brought her hand up against my lips and kissed the back of her hand slowly, deliberately. "Harry," she breathed, running her fingers of her opposite hand into my hair. "You haven't said anything…"

"Haven't I?" I asked her softly, pulling her chin into my hand and leaning my lips into hers. The truth was, I couldn't say anything, not if I wanted to, and I wanted to, very much. I was so overcome with glee that I wanted to scream it to the sky, the stars, the moon and galaxy. But I knew if I did that, I would never be able to stop. Instead, I had to trust my instincts, and just do what I felt was right.

And so, kissing her again, pulled off her jacket and then my own, trusting in the warmth of our enchantment, kissed along her neck, and began unbuttoning her plaid shirt…

And made love to her.

**To be continued…**


	5. Chapter 5: Darkest Before the Dawn

**DISCLAIMER: **I do not own these characters. They are all owned by J.K. Rowling, the only creative control I have is the plot.

**Author's Note:** I will not let you down, my darling readers! Aghk! Okay – a week from my first update after two years and a promise to update every week, and my computer decides to DIE! Those power outages and power surges will do it to my (was) trusty 10-year-old computer! Anyway, thank God that I received a laptop a few years ago, or else I would have made a great ass of myself!

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**Blurred Lines**

Chapter Five: Darkest Before the Dawn

**Harry's POV**

I awoke to sounds of my own laughter, and the form of Hermione snuggled up beside me, quite asleep. I didn't know why I was laughing, but could only tribute it to being linked to my extreme and vivacious bliss. When she had told me that she wished for us to raise the baby growing in her belly as _ours_, it had awakened something in me that I never knew existed before. Something I couldn't put to words, something that I couldn't possibly begin to explain… something that only started to make sense when I looked at Hermione, and when I did, the feelings it gave me, the joy it released inside of me, finally began to make sense: _family_.

My parents had been taken from me, murdered before my very eyes before I could even understand what was happening or what it all meant. At just infancy I was thrust into a world that was not filled with family or love, but relatives of hate and anger; bitterness, of my dead mother's. The closest thing I had even seen to a real family were the Weasley's – and from that first taste I wanted more. I thirsted for it more than I had anything else in my entire life. I knew I would never have my mother or father back. Sirius was dead, and all I had left was the Weasley's, but it had presented itself to me not long before Hermione and I fell in love that I would never be a part of that family, never _could_ be. I had resigned myself that it just wasn't in the cards for me.

But now, last night… When Hermione had told me she wanted her baby to have the life any unborn child should have; regardless of how they were brought into the world – of love and happiness and safety, protection and stability… It dawned on me. What she _wished_, what she was _asking_, was not _just_ for me to be the father to the child inside of her, but to be a _family_ with her. Family. I sighed and smiled, placing my hand across my forehead and closing my eyes and whispering the word aloud.

Last night, making love to her… I wasn't just making love to my _girlfriend_, but so much more. To my reason for living, my happiness, my woman to love and cherish and protect, my sun, my stars and moon… my forever… my _home_…

My family.

I opened my eyes and rolled onto my side, just barley seeing her features through the slight gap in the curtains pulled closed around my four poster. I ran the blades of my fingers over the side of her head, temple, jawbone, just watching her sleep so peacefully. Her shoulders and chest rose and fell evenly with each breath, a slight smile at the corner of her lips, begging to be kissed.

"My love," I whispered as I leant in towards her, just barley loud enough for my own ears to comprehend sound. "My darling, how could I have been so stupid, so blind, as to have waited so long to have you in my life?" I kissed the corner of her mouth gently, cupping her shoulder into my hand to hold her, and resting my forehead into the nook of her neck. "I love you so much, oh, God, how much I love you," I breathed, tilting my head back and softly kissing along her neck.

She inhaled a deep breath through her nose, stretching her shoulders and running her fingers into my hair. "Harry," she breathed, smiling and nuzzling her face against the side of my head. "We're supposed to be sleeping, the moon is still up."

"I know," I whispered, pressing my lips to hers and wrapping her up in my arms, pulling her naked form against me. "But I woke myself up laughing, and couldn't get back to sleep for sight of your sweet beauty beside me."

"How poetic you are, Mister Potter," she giggled.

"I _mean_ it, Hermione," I told her. I ran my fingers through her hair, resting my hand over the side of her face. She leaned into my touch, her expression going from playful to relaxed; safe. "I am lost; I can't sleep when you aren't beside me because I am afraid something may happen to you, like that _awful _monstrosity which calls itself Ginny Weasley…" I sighed. "Or other things." I said softly, running my hand over her hair as she pulled herself closer towards me still. "And when you _are_ here… all I can think about is how beautiful you are. How perfect you are; how smooth and warm your skin is against mine…" I trailed, looking over at her, and she smiling at me adoringly.

"Hm," she mused, furrowing her brows. "You're right. That is a problem. Perhaps I should enact a sleeping curse on you. Then you'll never need worry about me again, that is, of course, until I kiss you."

"Huh," I mocked playing along, pulling her with me as I rolled onto my back. "Struggle with sleep because of worry over you, _or_ lie in a glass casket surrounded by white roses for a while, Snow White style…" I trailed, looking up at the roof of my four poster. I chuckled, and Hermione pulled her body from mine, landing on her side beside me. When I looked over at her, she was picking at her nails and gone from her face was all playfulness. "Hermione?"

"Harry…" she said slowly, seeming to be very invested in her nails. "D'you… d'you ever wonder what the… what the baby will look like?" she asked weakly, still not meeting my eyes. "If they'll… if the child will look like…"

She didn't have to finish; I knew what she was getting at. "Darling," I said as I rolled quickly back onto my side to face her. I wrapped an arm around her and held her, while cupping the back of her head with my opposite hand. "Darling, please… please," I closed my eyes and placed my forehead to hers, breathing. "Don't do this to yourself," I told her as I opened my eyes to see her looking back at me, tears welling at the corners of her eyes.

"But what if-"

"Shh," I told her, scooting myself tighter against her. "Darling, please… Anyway: Your father is a redhead, isn't he, and blue eyes?" She nodded slowly, her chin trembling. "And your mother, she's blue eyes, hasn't she?" Another nod. "Your family are filled with redheads and blue eyes," I smiled at her gently, rubbing my thumb over her cheek, and she smiled back, placing her hand over mine. "You're just the lucky one who got beautiful, amber-brown eyes and rich, chocolate colored hair." I leaned forward and kissed my lips to her forehead. She leaned into me, wrapping her free arm around my back.

"I'm sorry," she said softly as she snuggled herself against me, kissing my shoulder. "Lately I have just been so scared that – and no, it doesn't change my mind at all about my decision on the matter – but, that the child will look just like… just like…" Neither one of us had been able to say his name since the night it happened, and neither one of us faulted the other for it. We had our reasons, and, unfortunately for _us_ (especially Hermione) so did the rest of the school know our reasons. "That when they are born, and I see them, that all I will be able to think about will be…"

"I know," I told her quickly enough to prevent her from saying anything else. "So have I. But we'll have each other, and," I took her hand into mine, staring her passionately in the eyes. "This child, as you say, will be, no, that's not right… This child _is_ ours, so, Hermione, my darling, darling Hermione… No matter what he _or_ she looks like, all I will see when I look at them will be you. Will be our family."

"Harry Potter," she breathed heavily. "I am going to tell you to do something, and if you don't do it I will be very, very upset."

"We can't have that then, can we?"

"Kiss me." She spoke so quickly I could barley hear my own voice make out the words '_can we'_.

* * *

We had made love until the sun came up. I awoke to Hermione's head snuggled against my chest and arm hugged securely around me; and mine around her. I breathed deeply, gently pulling my arm away from her back to stroke her wavy, tangled hair. I leant my head down to kiss the top of her head, inhaling her sweet scent of cherry blossom and peaches.

I wanted so much to wake her, but knew I shouldn't. She wasn't just living for herself now, or for me, but also for the child that was growing inside of her. Breathing, eating, drinking, sleeping – everything she did now was to give life and health to the child inside of her, and I couldn't even begin to understand how tiring that must be not just for her body, but for her mind, as well. The child wasn't even conceived out of choice or want; but of lust, abuse and rape. Through an act of desperation she had become pregnant – a hateful, criminal act – and she was so determined to not let that be the foundation of the child's life, but love, hope, and light, family, and I loved her all the more for it.

She inhaled a deep breath, signaling that she had woken up.

"Good morning," she said as she lifted her leg and hugged it over my own.

"G'morning, darling," I responded, closing my eyes and holding her still against me. "I was going to wake you, but decided against it."

"I wish you had," she told me as she lifted her body to look down at me. She pulled her arm away from my chest and began brushing her fingers through my hair as I opened my eyes to look up at her. "I hate you having to wake up by yourself." The expression that rested on her face as she played with my hair was so filled with love, so consumed by adoration and contentment. Chills ran all along my body. I was so in love with her, I could die. I closed my eyes again, smiling, leaning into her touch and hugging her tenderly.

"But I wasn't by myself," I told her, opening my eyes to gaze up at her. "You were right here, in my arms."

She smiled, leaning her lips into mine and kissing me.

"Harry, Hermione," Hermione quickly pulled the sheet over herself to cover her body as Neville pulled back the curtains of my four-poster. "Sorry, I know I am interrupting. But you have to come down to the common room." He told us quickly as Hermione and I looked at each other. "Now."

**To be continued…**


	6. Chapter 6: The Returned

**DISCLAIMER: **I do not own these characters. They are all owned by J.K. Rowling, the only creative control I have is the plot.

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**Blurred Lines**

Chapter Six: The Returned

**Harry's POV**

I slipped my glasses over my ears and slid my hands into my jeans pockets, watching as Hermione delicately dressed herself in a pair of close-fitting black jeans, thick grey socks and a long-sleeve blood red sweater.

"We've got to go," I said gently as I pulled my hands from my pockets and knelt down in front of her. I leaned forward, kissing her tenderly on the forehead and taking her shoulders into my hands. "I don't think Neville would have invaded our privacy like that if it weren't something deeply important." I sighed as I ran my hand through her hair.

"I know," she said as she pulled her eyes away from the floor to meet mine. "I know he wouldn't have done. "I just… I know why we have to go down there, Harry, but honestly I would rather die than have to face it."

"My love, don't ever tell me you would rather die," I told her as a tear dripped down her cheek. I wiped it away with my thumb, leaning forward to kiss her forehead once more. "I know why we need to go down there, darling, and I _won't_ let a thing happen to you. I swear to you. I will be holding your hand the whole time, and I won't let go. Not for a second."

"I know," she nodded as more tears fell freely down her cheeks. "It's just… Harry… there's something that I haven't told you, and I am so ashamed that I haven't…" she bit her bottom lip and squeezed her eyes shut as her shoulders began to tremble, and then shake violently. She began to sob as I pulled her into my arms, falling into my lap. She wrapped her arms around me and hid her face between my neck and shoulder.

"Hermione, if it is upsetting you this much, you know I would _never _force you to tell me something that is causing you this much pain," I said softly as I rocked her back and forth. "At least not until it stopped hurting you so."

"I know, Harry, and I love you so much for it; for how much you respect me… But, Harry… I have to tell you. I haven't told anybody, and I can't keep it a secret anymore… not when… not when we have to go down there and face…" she took in a quick, short breath, "him," she finished, leaning her forehead against mine and hugging me as tight as her arms would allow.

"Darling, you can tell me anything," I told her as I hugged her tightly; fighting off my own tears to see her in so much pain. "And I was wrong before: if you are hurting this badly please, please tell me what it is that is making you hurt so much."

She pulled her forehead from mine and took in a deep, shaky breath as she fought to compose herself. "It's… it's about the night; the night it happened," she began weakly, looking down at my chest. "Harry… I… I remember all of it. Whatever he gave me, it wasn't enough to completely knock me out," I tensed, my nostrils flaring in anger as she went on, silent tears streaming down her cheeks as she bundled up handfuls of my shirt and tugged at me. "It was enough to make it so I couldn't move, and nearly enough to the point where I fell asleep – but it was like I was half awake, half dreaming…" she forced her eyes to meet mine as I controlled my breathing.

_That bastard_…_ that BASTARD raped my Hermione, and he didn't even drug her enough to the point where she wouldn't remember it: No, and it wasn't a bloody mistake, he knew what he was doing. He _wanted _her to remember it. He _wanted_ to have her remember what he did to her, to remember how completely helpless and defenseless she was against him as he attacked her and held her down… He wanted her to remember for the rest of her life what he did to her, unable to do a thing to stop it. _

"I could… I could feel everything: Every scratch, every bite, every pinch every… _every movement_. I could see him… staring at me, _watching_ me… kissing me… telling me, telling me…

"He… he must not have given me enough of that drug, or, if he did, I only took one drink, so it was just enough so I wouldn't be able to do anything but, but Harry… Harry I remember it all – from the moment I took that first sip to the moment you carried me away to safety.

"I just… I wanted so badly to believe that I _was_ dreaming; I wanted so badly to _believe_ that it was just a horrible, horrible nightmare and that at any moment I might wake up from it. So when I asked you if it happened, if it was really true… I was lying to myself, telling myself it wasn't true – I couldn't believe that he would ever do such a thing to me. It's why I started screaming when Neville went to touch me, because it meant it was really true. And not just what… what… what… _Ron_ did, but that McLaggen was there as well, watching, waiting for his own turn…

"And Harry," she said quickly, tears still running down her face as she pulled her eyes back up to meet mine and placing her hand over my cheek; her other through my hair. "Harry, no matter what you say or think, you _did_ save me, Harry. You _did_ protect me. If you hadn't come when you did Cormac would have done the same thing to me," I couldn't believe what she was saying. She was pouring her heart out to me, telling me that she remembered every horrible thing that had happened to her, yet here she was, stroking my hair and trying to comfort _me._

No. No. I wouldn't have it. I wouldn't let her punish herself for this; wouldn't let her cast aside what happened to her by telling me I saved her because it didn't happen a _second_ time.

I reached my hand up and pulled her hand away from my hair, easily grabbing her second wrist within the same hand and holding them between us. "Hermione, _don't_," I told her as I looked her firmly in the eye. "Don't thank me for anything. If I had just not been a coward in the first place and insisted we keep our relationship a secret none of this would have happened to you. But that is neither here nor there. Hermione, _my darling_, I love you," I told her, cupping my hand over her cheek.

"I love you too," she said as tears began to fall down her cheeks once more; pulling her wrist from my grasp and holding her hand over mine.

"Don't ever blame yourself for what happened, Hermione," I told her softly, wrapping my arm back around her to hold her. "Don't ever make light of what happened to you, or pretend it isn't as bad as it really is. Hermione, what happened to you should never happen to anyone; but especially not you. You are the most wonderful, smart, selfless, helpful, patient, loving, kind, _and beautiful _person there ever was or ever will be. So don't ever try to make _me_ feel better about it, Hermione.

"I wasn't there to stop it before, but I. will. never let it or anything like it happen to you again. I am so sorry, Hermione, I am so sorry for what happened to you. I am devastated that you remember it, Hermione. I am absolutely heart broken and enraged that you remember it all; that it happened in the first place. And I will do whatever it takes to help you, to be your rock and your guide when you need it. I will hold you when you need to cry, and listen to you when you need to talk. I will always be here to kiss you, to tell you how deeply I am in love with you – how every day I fall more and more in love with you.

"How something _so horrible_ can happen to you, and yet you see this pregnancy as the light in this darkness – that you don't blame the child, _our_ child, but see them as something to love and to know that even in the darkest of times there are blessings."

"Why do you love me," she breathed, more as a statement than a question.

I furrowed my brows together, completely taken aback. "Why would you ever-"

"You are so amazing, Harry, and I am the luckiest girl in the world for you to have fallen in love with me, out of all the other girls out there."

"Hermione Jean Granger," I whispered as I ran my hand over her hair before pulling her and myself up off the ground. "Did you listen to _nothing_ I just said to you…" I lifted her up and set her back onto my bed, gently nudging her backwards to lie down. I ran my hands over the top of her legs, starting at the tip of her toes and working my way all the way up to her thighs. I then took my hand and gently pushed up the base of her sweater, sliding it up her stomach to just a few inches above her belly button. I leaned my head down to her stomach and placed just below her belly button several long, soft, tender kisses. "You are my family," I told her softly, climbing up on the bed and hovering over her, running my hand over her hair and kissing her deeply on the lips. "Both of you," I told her, running my hand onto her stomach just where I had kissed it, and holding it there. She slid her hand over top of mine and turned her head to look at me; eyes filled with that love and adoration that I mirrored back at her every single day. "And I won't let anything or anyone hurt my family, not so long as breath leaves my lungs."

"Harry…" she breathed, leaning forward and kissing my lips, sliding her hand under my head and lacing her fingers into my hair. She opened her mouth, sliding her tongue against mine and pulling my head closer to hers, deepening our kiss still further. I wanted so badly to, no, _needed_ to make love to her, right then, to show her how much I loved her, how much she meant to me, but knew that I couldn't, knew that we still needed to go face the reality outside of our little bubble we had created for each other.

Her breathing had deepened. She pulled her lips away from mine just long enough to tell me that she loved me; that she needed me – but just as I had needed her but knew that it was not the right time, Neville ran back into the room again, reminding us of that very fact. I slid Hermione's sweater back down over her stomach and took her head into both my hands, kissing her forehead for a long moment, and promising her once more that I wouldn't let anything happen to her.

* * *

As we took our last step from the stairs and entered the common room, Hermione stilled beside me. There he sat, not fifteen feet from us, in the chair closest the fire, his eyes glued to the floor at his feet. His hands were locked together; fingers laced with his elbows resting atop his knees.

"Ah, so glad you could join us," said a man who turned at our entrance who had been standing with one arm resting atop the mantle over the fire, the other with his hand fisted against his hip. He stood at _his_ left, while Professor McGonagall took up his right.

"You could have a little respect," I spat at him; the only thing holding me back from charging him was Hermione's hand in my own: She was just as much my rock as I was hers.

"Hm," the man said, looking down at the floor for a minute before adjusting his eyes to behold the redhead beside him. "With as much, let's call it _spunk_, as you seem to have, Mr Potter, you would think you could have prevented all this happening in the first place, wouldn't you say?" he asked. Hermione's chest began heaving heavily beside me, and her breathing picked up.

"How dare you," she said unexpectedly, forcing her eyes to come away from the floor to look at the man. "Just who do you think you are to speak to us like that? You obviously know perfectly well what happened, or else you wouldn't be here. And just why are you here?" she asked him, and cut him off before he could answer, knowing just as well as I what his answer _would_ be. "No!" she shouted. "I know _why_ you are here. But why now? What do you want, and why is _he_ here?"

"To be blunt with you, Miss Granger, I am simply here to asses the situation and seek out any inconsistencies with what may or may not have happened, and then from there will be able to punish the attacker with the severity of his crime," he stated plainly. Honestly, who _was_ this man? And why was McGonagall just _standing _there? And where was Dumbledore?

I looked around the room; the only other people besides myself, Hermione, McGonagall, _him_, and the man with whom had still not yet told us who he was, were Neville and Cormac, who had not been punished in any way, as he didn't technically _do_ anything. And as we were told, doing something and simply _wanting _to do something were two completely separate issues. He gave his statement the night it had happened, and other than professors and students keeping a close eye on him, that was all.

I looked over at McGonagall, who just looked back at me with sad, quiet eyes.

"And seeing as Miss Granger was the victim, is biased and cannot be consulted."

"Then why does she have to be here!?" I demanded. "That _monster_ that you appear to be _defending _drugged and raped her, and you're forcing her to be in the same room as him, yet you don't even want to _speak_ with her!? Who the hell are you, anyways?"

"Harry, please," Hermione pleaded softly as she stepped closer to me, tears once again running down her cheeks as she sniffled her nose. I wrapped my arm around her shoulders and pulled her against me protectively.

"She is here simply because she must be here. She is the victim, and therefore must be present for a meeting such as this. Now," the man went on as Hermione continued to weep, with her eyes closed, against me. "As I was-"

"Really? Does that even make any sense to _you_ at all? Can't you see how upset you are making her? You won't ask her anything, or listen to anything she has to say, yet you've no problem causing her tremendous amount of pain and agony, for no apparent reason at all other than: _she must be here_."

"Mr Potter I do not make the rules, I simply enforce them. I will be quick, how does that sound?" he asked. "I have taken statements from Mr Longbottom here, and Mr McLaggen – if you would be so kind as to look them over and either confirm or deny what you read, and I will also be needing a statement from yourself. And, as I said, seeing as Miss Granger was the victim and unconscious, she-"

"WATCH YOUR MOUTH!" I barked at him, ripping the parchment from his hand. "And why is _he_ here?" I asked, waving the parchment in his direction.

"He is here because they are letting him back in the school," it was the first thing McGonagall had said, and suddenly I understood why she had not spoken until now. "The Auror Department has concluded that no dark magic, or any magic, for that matter, was used, and therefore is no need for them to interfere any longer. While he did committed a terrible crime, they have decided to simply let him go with a warning, and provide his punishment as _time served_, being the two months he was kept with them."

"That's rubbish!" I yelled. "After what he did to her – they _can't _let him back here! They can't, they-"

McGonagall put up her hand to stop me, and I forced myself to bite my tongue. Hermione had begun crying harder in my arms. "Why I quite agree with you Potter, in fact, I agree completely with you, they have made their decision. They have overruled even Headmaster Dumbledore, and he _will_ be coming back to Hogwarts. Tomorrow. I know, I know," she said as I began to protest. "However, however, just _listen_ to me, Potter," she said calmly; resolutely. "We have changed his schedule so he will have absolutely no classes with Miss Granger, and changed yours as well so the two of you that is, Miss Granger and yourself, will be in all the same classes. I understand and agree that I should have consulted either one or both of you before doing so, I assumed and I believed assumed correctly that neither one of you would have protested," I hugged Hermione tighter, and nodded my head before leaning the side of my face against the top of her head. "Yes, just as well I thought.

"And this man, his name is Mr Browning, by the way, is here to gather all the information he can to keep on Mr Weasley's name and record for the rest of his life. His life will be difficult because of this, and I am quite sad to say it is not enough punishment, nor the two months he was away. If it were up to me he would be thrown out without a red cent and a shredded wand, however, it is _not_ up to me, I'm-"

"No it is not," Mr Browning said under his breath.

McGonagall shot him a look before continuing. "I will keep as close an eye on him as I can – just as I do McLaggen. He will not be allowed anywhere near Miss Granger during classes, and I can do what I can to keep him away on weekends. Though I am sorry to say it will be much more difficult during free hours, meal times, and in the common room. I will do what I can, and that is all I can say."

"That's all very well Professor, but, what about the…" I trailed off, knowing she would know what I meant, and she did.

"Ah, yes, that. Not at all. Absolutely no contact. Of course, we won't have to worry about that for another few months, but when the time comes I can promise you, neither of you will have anything to worry about whatsoever. You have my word."

I nodded my thanks, and began reading their statements. When I was finished, I handed it back to Mr Browning, answered his questions and gave my own statement. Once I was done, Mr Browning left, along with McGonagall, shortly followed by Cormac, leaving myself, Hermione and Neville alone with _him_…

**To be continued…**


End file.
